


Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten make use of the shocking booth in Sarlat

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [225]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten make use of the shocking booth in Sarlat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

[backdated to the Citadel Halloween 2013 weekend in Sarlat, France]

Sam glances at his watch as they make their way out of the castle and down through the fairgrounds towards the shocking booth, their reserved time coming up soon. "You washed up and prepped with the surgilube?" he asks, checking in with Ryan, unable to keep the grin off his face or the wicked sparkle from his eyes.

"Yes, Sir." Ryan can feel the blush on his cheeks, and it only heats up more as he glances around, wondering whether anyone notices how flushed he is for no apparent reason. In this crowd... well, probably not. There are much more interesting things to look at. "May I ask, have you done this before, Sir?"

"The shocking booth?" Sam asks.

"Well, the... you know, just the shocking." Ryan stuffs his hands into the pockets of his beat-up jeans, and watches his steps to make sure he doesn't stumble over his own two feet.

"Cattle prods don't count?" Sam teases, nudging their shoulders together.

"Jesus," Ryan breathes. "I don't know," he says, because he truly doesn't. "Does the lube make it more intense? Like, it conducts the electricity better or something?"

"Yeah." Sam's grin widens. "The silicone ones we usually use act as insulators so they dull the sensation whereas the surgilube doesn't interfere and it decreases the chance of hot spots, not that there's much worry of that with this."

Ryan stares at his lover. "...Hot spots?" Okay, clearly he should have done some more research before he told Sam he wanted to try this.

"Don't worry about it," Sam says, leaning in for a kiss. "You only have to be concerned about those if you're doing intense prolonged play."

"Oh. No problem, then," Ryan says, his usual grin creeping back out of hiding. "I'd never expect anything with you to get intense."

Sam laughs. "Brat," he murmurs, swatting Ryan on the ass. "The keyword was 'prolonged'. This'll be short bursts." His grin turning downright wicked.

Ryan's smile widens even further at the tease, out here in the open in front of - okay, a bunch of other kinky freaks - and he takes Sam's hand, linking their fingers together. "So... what will you get out of this, d'you think?"

"Really fucking turned on," Sam says, giving Ryan a smile and his hand a squeeze. "You should know by now how much I love hurting you."

"You do seem to take a certain perverse pleasure in it," Ryan says, his expression as sober as he can manage for, oh, two seconds or so. He stops walking, and pulls Sam in against his chest. "I love you," he whispers, breathing the words over his sir's lips.

Sam nods. "You're everything to me," he whispers back, mindless of the people around them, of the fact that they're stopped in the middle of the fucking fair, lost in each other.

Ryan sighs softly and nibbles on Sam's bottom lip, then licks away any sting. "If you really _really_ love me," he murmurs, "you'll get me naked and electrocute my ass until I come."

Sam laughs then nods towards the designated booth. "There we go," he says, glancing at his watch. "We're right on time." He pulls Ryan up to the booth and nods at the operator. "I'm Sam and this is Ryan. We have the next slot booked privately."

"Oui, Monsieur. I'm Henri. I'm one of the trainers here," he shakes Sam's hand and nods at Ryan. "Have you played with electrics before?"

"Not in a while and not together," Sam says.

Henri smiles. "This is a very simple set-up. If you want to have your boy undress and give me his clothes, I'll set them aside."

Sam nods for Ryan to go ahead and get naked.

Ryan nods back, then blinks in surprise. "Right... right here?" he asks Sam in a furtive whisper, but then immediately starts skinning out of his clothing. What the fuck was he expecting? Privacy?

"So," Henri says, taking Ryan's clothes and carefully setting them aside. "This is exactly like the dunking booth except we have the plug here, on the seat, and you sit on it and we restrain you, and then your sir tries to hit the target with the ball and if he succeeds, instead of being dunked, you get shocked. Any questions?"

"...No?" Ryan murmurs, massively uncertain. He glances at Sam. No, Ryan doesn't know Henri, but he knows Sam -- and he trusts his sir absolutely. "No questions, thank you."

"We're good," Sam says with a smile, helping Ryan up the steps in front of the platform. He steps up too, blocking the view, making sure all Ryan sees is his sir, for now. The plug's bigger than the ones he's seen online, clear with four conductive rods running up the insides, but it's not too large. Maybe five by two. "You're sure you're good with this?" he asks Ryan, waiting for him to get in place, always aware that his boy no longer has a safeword.

Okay, that just feels _weird_ , fucking sitting down on that _thing_. Ryan grimaces and wriggles for a moment, trying to get as comfortable as he can. Then he grins up at his sir. "Yep. All good." For now, ha.

Sam grins back, leaning in, hands on Ryan's thighs as he kisses him thoroughly. "This is gonna be fun," he whispers, brushing their lips together.

"Yeah?" Ryan still isn't totally convinced, and he's actually growing more nervous as time passes. But he's seduced by the idea of doing something which will so obviously please his sir. "All right, let's get it on."

Sam grins, backing down the steps and turning to Henri. "What do we have it set on?"

"It's on the low side of medium," Henri replies, showing Sam the settings. "We can turn it up - anywhere to here," he says, pointing out the top setting being used, which is still nowhere near the maximum.

"Let's put it on just the other side of medium," Sam says. "Especially since we haven't done much of this."

Henri nods. "Tres bien." He adjusts the setting and hands Sam a box of balls. "When you are through with those, we can collect them again if you wish."

"Thanks." Sam takes his position and picks up a ball, hefting the weight in his hand, a grin flashed at Ryan as he takes aim and lets fly, the ball squarely hitting the target.

Ryan's tense with anticipation, watching Sam, following the path of the ball with his eyes. But the shock happens so fast once it comes that he's got no time to process it anyway. He just yelps in surprise, the pain bright and blinding, fading just as swiftly as it came. Leaving him panting for breath in its wake.

Jeans tightening at Ryan's cry, Sam shifts from one foot to the other, a second ball picked up and lobbed at the target.

"Fuck!" The curse tears from Ryan's lips, another brutal flash of pain stunning him before he's even mentally adjusted to the first one. And god _damn_ his cock, which is reacting to sexual torment from his sir just like it always does.

Sam follows up quickly with a third ball, making sure Ryan sees the throw. Anticipates the pain. His aim shifted just enough that the ball misses the target and hits the back flap. He winks at Ryan.

Ryan catches that wink, no sooner than he registers that the ball missed. His sir didn't hit the target on purpose; good to know. For a couple seconds, at least, he can try to catch his breath. He knows Sam, which means he knows damn well that his reprieve won't last.

"How's it feel?" Sam says, another ball in hand.

"It's... um." Ryan gives his lover a crooked grin. "I don't know. Have you ever wanted to fuck me with a hot fireplace poker?"

Sam laughs. "Don't put ideas in my head," he teases with a quick glance at his boy's erection before he slams the ball he's holding into the target.

This time, it's less of a shock -- either that, or Ryan is finally beginning to mentally prepare for the pain. He whimpers loudly, his hands tightening into fists on the edges of his chair.

"You think you can come like this?" Sam calls, plucking another ball from the basket.

Ryan blinks blearily and attempts to process his sir's question. "...Come?" he asks, and actually has to look down at his cock before he realizes he's sporting a huge erection. He looks back at Sam and gives him a shaky nod. "Yes, Sir. Please."

"Three more," Sam tells him, hefting the ball in his hand.

The next jolt makes Ryan scream. The pain is white-hot, although it's over as abruptly as it began. He gasps and blinks rapidly against the wetness in his eyes, praying silently that Sam won't draw this out. He's not sure he could handle it.

"Last two," Sam warns. "I'm gonna do them right in a row and you have permission." Making sure Ryan understands before he throws both balls, one right after the other, the second striking the target mere seconds after the first.

There's no way. There's no-- Ryan shouts and dissolves into a hot rush of agony, letting it burst through him and bleed right into pleasure. His orgasm is nearly as intense as the pain was, and he hopes that was two balls, not just one, because oh God he lost count and he just can't do this anymore.

Sam hands the box back to Henri and heads for Ryan, wrapping his arms around his boy and hugging him tight. "Good boy," he murmurs. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

"...Oh." Sam is proud of him? That's really good to know. Ryan clings to his sir, still shaking. "I need..." he whispers, the words smeared against Sam's throat. "Please. I need to get off this."

"I know," Sam says, helping Ryan dismount. Henri hands him a light blanket and Sam wraps it around Ryan while they both work at getting him dressed again.

Well, mostly Sam works to get Ryan dressed again. Ryan himself mainly just gets in the way, attempting to huddle into the blanket and rub his body against Sam's at the same time.

"You okay?" Sam asks when Ryan's finally clothed. He touches his boy's face, looking into his eyes, holding him close with his other arm.

"Mmpf." If it were possible for Ryan to be subsumed into Sam's body, he'd already be there now. As it is, he just clings as tightly as if they're jumping off a cliff, burying his face in Sam's throat. He's freezing. He's exhausted. But Sam is holding him.

"Let's go back upstairs," Sam says softly, nodding his thanks to Henri. "We'll take a nice long hot bath before we have to get ready for the ball."

"Mmm, yes Sir," Ryan mumbles, nuzzling Sam's neck. "I'm right behind you."  



End file.
